Health · · 7 min read

The Race Begins Long Before the Starting Gun

Why focus matters as much during training as it does during competition.

Is focus an issue in your life?

I’ve been experimenting with noticing my thoughts and feelings lately, and something has really started to stand out:

Some of the biggest distractions to our focus aren’t happening around us.

They’re happening within us.

We all recognise external distractions: the phone, emails, other people and noise.

But what about the internal ones?

Ideas. Judgements. Worries. Memories. Expectations. Something somebody said earlier. Something we need to do later.

They can be endless.

I’ve been finding that when we give one of these thoughts our attention, it can begin to loop and gather momentum. Before we know it, our body may still be doing what we started, but our mind is somewhere else entirely.

What I noticed during my own training

I’ve experienced this during my own gym workouts.

I can begin training with a clear intention, but then an idea appears about something I’m developing.

If I follow it.

The idea leads to another idea. Before long, I’ve picked up my phone and started writing notes, researching something or working through plans.

I’m still at the gym. I may even continue moving between exercises.

But am I really training with the same focus?

My rest periods become longer. The workout takes more time. I’m putting less effort into each movement, and my attention is divided between what my body is doing and whatever my mind has become caught in.

The phone may eventually become part of the distraction, but the distraction began before I touched it.

It began with a thought.

That got me wondering about the role of internal distractions in sport.

Training the body and attention

Imagine a sprinter practising their starts.

Their coach has given them a clear intention for the next start:

Drive powerfully through the first few steps.

The athlete gets into position.

Then a thought appears:

“I keep getting this wrong.”

They follow it:

“My last start was too slow.”

“What am I doing differently?”

“Maybe my foot is in the wrong position.”

“I need to get it right.”

The athlete launches from the blocks, but their attention is divided between several different concerns. Their body completes the start, but the clear intention they began with has been lost inside the thought loop.

Now imagine the same training moment again.

The athlete gets into position, and the same thought appears:

“I keep getting this wrong.”

But this time, they notice it.

They don’t fight the thought or try to force it away. They simply don’t continue adding to it.

Their attention returns to the intention for this start:

Really drive through the first few steps.

Bang! The starter gun sounds and they’re up and running, driving through those first few steps.

The athlete isn’t only practising the physical movement.

Each time they notice that their attention has wandered and return it to their intention, they are also practising the act of returning/the act of focus.

They’re becoming more familiar with the thoughts, doubts and distractions that can arise while they perform.

That doesn’t mean every thought during training is a problem.

Some thoughts are useful and intentional. An athlete may deliberately remember a coaching cue, examine their technique or think through what needs to change.

Something useful I’ve found is that when you have a clear intention to focus on and you notice a thought come up, it’s then much easier to tell if that thought is a distraction and leading your mind away or is it a clear part of your intention?

Noticing allows the athlete to recognise the difference.

Then comes competition

Now imagine two sprinters waiting for the starting gun.

The first athlete is poised and ready.

A thought appears:

“Don’t false start.”

They follow it:

“But don’t react too slowly either.”

“I was slow out of the blocks in my last race.”

“What if it happens again?”

“I can’t afford to get this wrong.”

Then the gun fires.

Their body was at the starting line, but their attention was caught in everything that might go wrong.

Now imagine the second athlete.

The same thought appears:

“Don’t false start.”

But this time, they notice it without continuing the conversation.

They don’t argue with the thought, try to silence it or add another thought to it.

They simply don’t feed it.

Their attention returns to their intention:

Poised. Ready. Waiting for the sound.

Then the gun fires.

Which athlete is more likely to perform at their best?

The difference isn’t that one athlete experiences distracting thoughts and the other doesn’t.

The difference is whether those thoughts are automatically allowed to take their attention with them.

The race starts during training

Focus isn’t something an athlete only needs during the intense pressure of competition.

It shapes the quality of the training that prepares them for that competition.

If attention is repeatedly carried away during practice, technique may not receive the care it needs. Coaching cues may be missed. Reps may be completed physically without the athlete being fully connected to what they’re trying to improve.

But every training session also provides an opportunity to practise something deeper.

Notice when attention has wandered.

Don’t feed the distraction.

Return to the intention.

This isn’t about achieving a completely silent mind. It’s about becoming more familiar with returning whenever the mind carries us away.

Competition pressure doesn’t magically create this ability.

It reveals what has been practised.

The body is practising the movement.

The mind is practising the return.

And when the starting gun fires, both forms of training arrive at the line.

Notice it… don’t feed it.

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